An insect.
That crawls upon my body, except I can't quickly swat it away
Without causing attention to myself
and everyone noticing that my
white ******* are pulled
all the way down
to my ankles.

My lips are dry so I bite them.
Knuckles whitening while I hold onto the grip-strap
And I hear his heavy breathing against my neck.
I look at the tunnels, quickly passing by.
'Maybe this will end fast too?'

Naive of me to think so.

Sliding into my flower
Like a toxic, little aphid.
Stuck on my sticky leaves
As petals are parted and

I pour out of the open doors in Shinjuku station,
And run out, wiping a tear on my sleeve.
I tug up my decency
While I run to the ticket booth.
Angry foreigner was yelling at the old man who sits within.
The clock above strikes eight.
I decide that it's not worth it.
I won't tell anyone.
It doesn't matter.
Could be worse.
It's okay.
I'm okay.







I wasn't okay.

I'm late again
for the train
not my period
except the one that
comes at the end of
this sentence.
I barely make it too
Saikyo-line
the worst place
for women and girls
but it's on the way so
I put up with it
even though it's packed
and hot and full of
sweaty people.
I'm lucky I guess
to find a seat.
There's a man beside me
dressed all for business
he doesn't look
in my direction
So I think nothing of it.
While I settle in
there's the slightest
brush against my arm
I react and then disregard it
as filtering air.
A few minutes go by
I text a friend on my phone
and the same brush comes again
but closer to my chest.
I react the same way
I move closer to the separator
and continue on with
my text.
More minutes pass
and there the touch comes
but now it's a grasp
low on my hip.
The boy across from me laughs
as I jump out from
where I was seated
but the business man
acts as if he was asleep.
I do nothing
Just like the boy laughing does.
and it goes on until
I get off
at the next stop.
There's a schoolgirl
that walks by me,
takes the seat where I sat
I should warn her, I think
but I keep moving on.
If you do nothing
Nothing gets done.